


ready now

by ifthebookdoesntsell



Series: when you're alyssa greene [1]
Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Alyssa centric, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Happy Ending, a study of alyssa's relationship with silence, discussions of her father, it's basically her pov on the show as it relates to her finding her voice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifthebookdoesntsell/pseuds/ifthebookdoesntsell
Summary: From a young age, Alyssa Greene always hated silence.There’s something absolutely suffocating about the quiet. It’s deafening in its emptiness, cold and impersonal in its conduct, enveloping the good moments and seeping further into the ones that almost hurt too much to bear.But things change, and as she grows older, as she falls in love, she finds that perhaps the solitude of it was only a precursor to a brilliant, gorgeous existence where the moments between the lines and the pauses before a new sentence are the times where love is shifting from its most liminal form to its most sure.This takes long for Alyssa to truly understand, though. It takes years of attempting to become one with the silence, of trying to blend in, before she realizes that in order to appreciate the quiet, she must first learn to scream.(Or, a study of Alyssa's relationships with silence throughout the show, before, and beyond.)
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Series: when you're alyssa greene [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125971
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93





	ready now

**Author's Note:**

> so... i'm new here but also not at all. i've read a lot of fics for alyssa (and emma too!). the prom is my comfort musical. i've had this idea bouncing around in my head since i saw the show awhile ago, but i was always too scared to write it because i didn't know if i could do it. but i'm here now because i've finally plucked up the courage to just go for it. 
> 
> it's basically a character study of alyssa's relationship with silence, and how that changes throughout the show (and a bit before and after too). 
> 
> i hope y'all like it.
> 
> (title from ready now by dodie.)

From a young age, Alyssa Greene always hated silence. 

There’s something absolutely suffocating about the quiet. It’s deafening in its emptiness, cold and impersonal in its conduct, enveloping the good moments and seeping further into the ones that almost hurt too much to bear. 

But things change, and as she grows older, as she falls in love, she finds that perhaps the solitude of it was only a precursor to a brilliant, gorgeous existence where the moments between the lines and the pauses before a new sentence are the times where love is shifting from its most liminal form to its most sure. 

This takes long for Alyssa to truly understand, though. It takes years of attempting to become one with the silence, of trying to blend in, before she realizes that in order to appreciate the quiet, she must first learn to scream. 

*** 

It started when she was eight. 

Her parents began to fight. There wasn’t a lot that she could understand at the time, but she was old enough to know that yelling is bad for the throat and silence is terrible for the soul. 

At least the arguments could be blocked out with a pillow and some headphones. 

But the lonely, choking, breathless whispers of night that followed? Those crept past the entryway of Alyssa’s bedroom and clawed firmly at her heart. 

In the morning, her parents would pretend to be alright. Her dad would even kiss her mom on the cheek before he left for work, pat Alyssa on the head and tell her that he loved her. 

It went on that way for months: breathless arguments in the dead of night and a production to convince her that everything was alright in the morning. 

It wasn’t awful. Her parents seemed okay enough. 

One day, that all stopped. 

One day, her father left. 

One day, everything went quiet. So, so quiet. 

Her mom barely spoke for the first few days, and Alyssa didn’t know what to feel, what she was allowed to feel. 

Good girls don’t cry over spilled milk. 

Good girls don’t cry when they fall down. 

Good girls don’t cry when things hurt. 

And this hurts. This hurts so bad. 

But she’s not allowed to cry. She has to be what her mom wants. She has to be what her mom needs. 

She keeps quiet. 

It hurts. 

***

From then on, Alyssa fills her life with every activity she can, anything to escape the chill that spreads through her when she comes home to nobody there, anything to banish the whispered thoughts that tell her she’ll never be what her mother wants, never be enough to make her anybody want her. 

Cheerleading and debate are her favorite. People are always talking, always clapping. 

There isn’t a lot of time to think about anything aside from choreographed moves and theses. 

Besides, they’re two things her mom wanted her to get involved in. She’s glad to see her smiling in the stands.

***

The first time Alyssa _really_ sees Emma Nolan the world goes terrifyingly silent. 

Everybody heard what happened. Emma is gay. Her parents kicked her out. 

Pretty much everyone’s been avoiding her like the plague. 

Alyssa doesn’t mean to run into her. It had been a particularly difficult day. Kaylee and Shelby were making fun of underclassmen all morning, and Emma too, and finally, she’d had enough. 

Which is how she ran into Emma in the band room, searching for something to make enough noise to drown out the silence that insisted on asking her why she cared so much what her friends thought of the only out lesbian in town. 

They have chemistry together, and she flushes with embarrassment as she remembers that the last time the girl had seen her she’d managed to explode her peanut brittle in the lab. 

Not exactly the best impression. 

Not that she cares. 

Emma’s head whips towards the door when she hears Alyssa come in, and for a moment, the brunette is sure that her heart has stopped. 

Emma has the prettiest eyes, she thinks before she can stop herself. She’s never noticed before. 

“Sorry,” Alyssa says quickly. “Is this your spot for when people are bothering you?” 

Alyssa’s breath catches when she hears the other girl laugh. 

“If it were, then I’d be here every minute of the day,” she jokes. “I’m just practicing some guitar.” The blonde hesitates. “You can join me, if you want?” 

For a moment, Alyssa wants to decline the offer, but when she meets Emma’s eyes again she recognizes the expression in them: barely hopeful, searching, _lonely._ So she just nods and sits, placing a gentle foot between her and Emma on the choir bleachers as the girl begins to play. 

“It’s just a little something I’m working on. There are no words yet.” 

Alyssa nods again. 

They sit like that the rest of lunch, Emma nervously playing chords and Alyssa listening, trying not to think about the fact that for the first time it feels as though every bit of the suffocating quiet that normally rules her life has been filled. 

It’s replaced by a different kind of softness, one that’s equally scary, but somehow, also, it’s one that part of her wouldn’t mind exploring, falling into, embracing.

***

They start to meet that way regularly. 

Emma banishes the whispers that tell Alyssa that she isn’t good enough, that tell her what exactly she is, that whisper that her father isn’t ever coming back.

Emma banishes them with soft music, with dreamy eyes, with shy smiles. Emma makes her feel good. Emma makes her feel pretty, and smart, and-- 

Emma makes a quiet world loud in exactly the way she needs. 

But more than that, Emma makes the silence easier to bear. 

For the very first time, Alyssa allows herself to have thoughts she never wanted before. And in turn, she realizes that maybe the quiet isn’t so terrible after all, not when there’s somebody there with her. 

Now, when her mother is on the phone with a client, she hums the little tune the girl played for her earlier that day. Now, when it’s silent, she thinks of her eyes, how clear, how intelligent, they are. 

Now, when the world seems to be pushing her down, clamping her mouth shut, Alyssa contemplates screaming for the very first time. 

***

When Alyssa kisses Emma, she doesn’t even realize what she’s done until it’s too late. 

One moment, they were discussing school policy, and the next, she’s leaning forward. Emma gasps against her lips, and Alyssa can swear she can hear the other girl’s heartbeat. She smiles, presses forward, before she comes to terms with what she’s done and jerks back. 

“I’m so sorry!” she blurts out. 

“Why?” the blonde asks, looking at her curiously. 

Alyssa is at a loss for words. She doesn’t know why she’s sorry. It felt good. Better than any kiss she’s shared with any boy. Apologizing is easier than rejection, though. 

There’s no way Emma could like her. The silence between them says so. 

“I don’t know,” she admits. She never admits to not knowing, but there’s something about the other girl that makes her comfortable enough to acknowledge the fact. 

“Oh,” the blonde answers. 

Alyssa’s heart is going a mile a minute. The silence is closing in around her, and then--

“Well did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what, Em?” 

Emma blushes. “The kiss, ‘Lys. Did you mean it?” 

Brown eyes widen. She begs herself to stay quiet, tells herself it’s for the best, but hazel irises are so earnest, so understanding-- 

“Yes. I meant it,” she breathes. 

Warmth spreads through her, and despite the fact that neither of them say anything, their wordless conversation feels like a confirmation of everything she’s been feeling. 

The bell rings before they’re able to discuss anything, and Alyssa is speechless once more when Emma kisses her goodbye, swift and sweet, whispering that she’ll see her tomorrow with a surety that makes her pulse quicken. 

The rest of the day, her mind goes quiet in the best way, a relief taking hold in her chest, fighting off every chill that attempts to invade her heart. Instead, she thinks of Emma’s lips on hers, thinks of her gentle voice, her soothing presence. 

Her thoughts are filled with Emma, and she embraces that new softness she felt the first time she sat beside the other girl in the band room. 

It doesn’t have a name yet, but she knows she likes it; she knows that it makes her feel less alone at home, that it almost feels as though she’s protected from her mother’s criticism, like somebody’s hand is in hers, squeezing tight and tethering her to Earth. 

***

Prom creeps up faster than she ever imagined. 

For months, she’s sat in her bedroom after dark, trying to imagine a way to tell her mother about Emma. For months, she’s been sneaking around, cherishing the loud moments she gets to have with the blonde and learning to manage in the softer ones too. 

With Emma, she doesn’t feel the need to fill every second together with conversation. With Emma, she feels safe in the pauses and the space between the lines. 

Still, the dance is coming up. And every way she’s thought of telling her mother the truth doesn’t seem right; every way seems to end in heartbreak. There have been opportunities to just blurt it out. There’s been silence at the dinner table; there’s been time on the couch during the commercials when Alyssa’s heart has begged her to confess. 

But she doesn’t feel safe in this silence. This quiet is the kind she avoids at all costs. 

She wants to go to the dance with her girlfriend, though. She wants to dance with her. She wants to kiss her, to finally let everybody know that Emma is wanted, and that Emma wants her. 

And yet-- 

She can’t find the words. 

Good girls don’t say things people don’t want to hear. 

Good girls do as their mothers say. 

Good girls don’t rock the boat. 

***

The prom gets cancelled. 

Alyssa knows everybody is blaming Emma and this girlfriend they’ve never met. She doesn’t want to be blamed. 

She’s never been good at standing up, at taking responsibility when it really came down to it. 

Emma tells her that it’s all going to be alright, that everything is going to get fixed, and she finds herself believing before she can stop herself. 

Emma tends to do this, tends to make her forget her troubles, tends to give her that soft look and make every whisper of doubt fade into nothingness. 

She can feel that look on her as she leaves after the PTA meeting. She can almost feel it following her home.

She doesn’t know what it is, but lately, she’s always felt Emma beside her, beautiful, sweet, talented, _wonderful_ Emma. 

Somewhere deep, somewhere _quiet_ , where it feels truly _safe_ for the first time, she knows, for sure, that this is love. 

*** 

Prom gets reinstated. Somehow. 

Alyssa hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the PTA meeting, about the Broadway actors who barged in, about Emma, so small and silent across the auditorium. 

But now, everything is back on track. 

In just a little while, she’ll come out. In just a little while, her mom will _have_ to stay silent for once-- instead of her-- since they’ll be in public. In just a little while, she’ll never have to be quiet about who she is ever again. 

***

Something isn’t right.

Not a single word from Kaylee and Shelby the entire day, much less anybody else on the prom committee. She doesn’t even like the two girls, but the message she sent in the groupchat that neither replied to makes her inexplicably anxious. 

Still, the day rushes by, and Alyssa can’t help but feel both nervous and excited for tonight. Nobody really talks to her, which feels unusual, but honestly, the lack of interruption in her thoughts of Emma is more than welcome. 

Her mother seems overjoyed at the thought of tonight, and she’s not going to complain, even if her overbearing use of gifs and emojis can be annoying and almost embarrassing. Still, the woman seems excited to see her in her dress tonight, to take pictures, to show them to everybody.  
  
Her mother seems _proud._ And that’s really all Alyssa wants, even if she’ll never admit to such a thing aloud, even if she just allows that thought to regretfully sit in the silence of her bedroom, in the violence of quiet. 

***

That old familiar chill takes hold of Alyssa’s heart as soon as her mom pulls into the lodge in town, which is easily several streets from the school. She trails after her as always, finally gaining the courage and stop in her tracks once they’ve climbed the stairs. 

“I don’t understand. Why aren’t we at the gym?” Her mother brushes her off, as if she isn’t really listening, or maybe Alyssa isn’t really heard. “Mom, what’s going on? Tell me the truth.” 

Her mother details how there was a _last minute problem,_ but she knows that isn’t true. She knows that it’s because of the courts, because of the actors, because of Emma--

_Oh God, Emma._

“Now you go have fun.” Her mother still sounds cheerful; the part of her that’s a daughter who longs for her parent’s approval sings, filling the hollow cavern in her chest with voices of joy, though they’re muted and shameful. “I will be right here to make sure everything is perfect.” 

Again, Alyssa has been rendered speechless, silent, by her mother, by the woman who so long has claimed to care for her, her thoughts, her feelings-- 

She rushes away before she says anything she’ll regret, before the voice Emma has helped her find spills out of her and she breaks the manageable quiet that’s lived between the two Greene women since the third member of their family-- the one who kept the peace, kept it all together-- left eight years ago.

***

“You lied to me!”

Alyssa can’t hold it in. Not with these girls, not when they _knew,_ not when they kept quiet, not when they’ve always been the loudest of the bunch, not when they did this just to hurt her. 

Because this is about _Emma,_ and Emma is her everything-- 

“Yeah? Who’s the liar?” 

Her heart stops. 

_Play it cool, Alyssa._

Good girls don’t get angry. 

Good girls don’t make a scene-- 

_“What?”_

She spits out the word before she can really get a handle on-- 

“We know about you and Emma,” Shelby clarifies. 

And just like that, Alyssa’s world comes crashing down. 

Speechless. 

Again. 

All over again.

Good girls don’t scream. 

Good girls don’t-- 

“Believe me, we are doing you a favor,” Kaylee adds. 

Alyssa wants to believe them. 

But this is Emma, and Emma is her everything-- 

“You’ll thank us later.”

Alyssa wants to believe them. 

She wants to. 

But this is Emma-- 

Emma, who’s probably all alone at the gym, confused, and in the dark, since she knows the lights aren’t on because the district doesn’t pay for them after hours due to the lack of funding. 

Emma, who’s probably so unused to the lack of chatter.

Emma, all by herself. It’s probably quiet. 

So, so quiet. 

Alyssa braces herself on the table, tries to catch her breath, tries to think of something to yell after Kaylee and Shelby, but there’s nothing. There’s nothing in her head except deafening, painful darkness. There isn’t a single thought, a single word that wishes to be conjured-- 

It’s quiet. 

So, so quiet-- 

***

_“Then come meet me.”_

Emma’s voice is pleading. There’s a crackle on the line between them. 

They’re both crying. 

It hurts. 

And for once, Alyssa allows her emotions to get the better of her. 

Because this is Emma--

But also--

“I can’t.” 

She hates herself for saying the words. She hates herself for speaking at all. 

Good girls don’t speak. Not if they don’t have anything nice to say. 

_“Can’t or won’t?”_

The line crackles some more. 

There’s dancing below. Alyssa is looking down at it. 

That should be them. They should be together. They shouldn’t have to speak through the phone like this on a night that was supposed to belong to them forever. The joy is absent, and despite the music below, Alyssa can’t hear a damn thing besides the pain in her girlfriend’s voice. 

“My mother is here! She’s watching every second.” 

She knows it seems to be a flimsy excuse. But her mother seemed so proud tonight, so happy, so willing to call Alyssa beautiful, to tell her she loved her-- 

_“Well leave her!”_

Alyssa always admired Emma’s ability to scream in a room filled with quiet. Now, she can feel her heart breaking in two. 

_“Tell her you’re gay!”_

She doesn’t mean to flinch. She is gay.

She knows that. But saying the words? She couldn’t even begin to figure out how-- 

_“Tell her we’re in love!”_

In love. 

Alyssa knows that to be true as well. Her voice is caught on the inside of her throat. 

_“That was the plan!”_

Alyssa’s always loved plans. Not now, though. There’s no plan to make this better. 

“I can’t! It’s bad enough that Kaylee and Shelby know!” 

She regrets saying those words the second they’re out of her mouth. 

_“Bad enough?”_

Fuck.

She didn’t mean it like that. She didn’t mean to use her voice for that. She didn’t mean to scream-- 

“I mean--”

Alyssa doesn’t know what she means. She doesn’t know. She knows she loves Emma. 

She knows Emma. She knows this town. She knows her mother, and she knows her life. She knows her father is somewhere. She knows that school is her one way out, that she’s worked hard for her reputation, that she needs to escape, to New York, or Los Angeles or-- 

Just somewhere she can be herself, where she can scream her truth loudly and nobody will bat an eye at her. 

She thought she found that here. She thought it would be her moment. She thought-- 

“--It’s not like I thought it would be. I’m sorry.” 

_“You’re sorry? That fixes everything.”_

Alyssa doesn’t know what else to do, what else to say. 

Good girls say they’re sorry. 

Good girls are always the first to apologize-- 

_“Have fun at the normal person’s prom.”_

Emma’s never spoken to her like that. Even after the peanut brittle incident, she’d always been so kind, so understanding-- 

Even after Alyssa wanted to keep things a secret, Emma never pushed. She enjoyed the quiet with Alyssa instead, taught her to love every second that they just looked at each other or sat on the phone but couldn’t speak--

“Emma--” 

The line goes dead. 

Emma always says goodbye. Even if she’s angry. 

She always says goodbye-- 

Alyssa’s stomach turns upside down. 

There’s a ringing in her ears. 

She chances another look down below. 

_Tonight belongs to them._

It’s the last thought she remembers having before she mindlessly traipses down the stairs and begins to dance, before she forces herself to forget, before she allows the music to drown out the erratic beating of her heart and the thoughts of the only person that loves her in this shitty town. 

***

When Emma breaks up with her, the steady buzz, the little light in Alyssa’s chest burns out in an instant. 

The girl asked her all kinds of questions: whether she was in on it, whether she knew, whether she would go public. 

Alyssa’s heart broke further that Emma thought she’d ever hurt her like that. 

And she wants to go public. 

_She does._

But her mother-- 

Emma said it wasn’t good enough. 

And part of her couldn’t help but agree. 

Alyssa has never been so brave. She’s one to cave, one to give up, one to give in-- 

She’s one to watch the door for a father who’s never going to come home, one to trail after a mother who hasn’t listened to what she needs-- 

Emma breaks up with her, and for the first time in a year and a half, Alyssa hates silence once more. She’s lonely in it, can feel it crushing her. 

_Emma broke up with her._

_Emma broke up with her._

It’s a constant thought from then on. It plays so often that it becomes one with the silence, just as Alyssa hoped she would be, one day. 

Now, she knows that isn’t what she wants at all. 

She can’t be what her mother wants anymore. She has to learn to scream. 

She has to do this for herself.

***

Eight million people.

_Eight million._

Eight million people have heard Emma’s voice. 

Alyssa can’t stop playing her video. 

When she’s free, she turns it on, tries to stop herself from smiling too hard watching it. 

Emma is so brave, so kind. 

Emma is wonderful. 

Emma--

Emma isn’t hers to be proud of anymore. 

Alyssa realizes it in a flash. 

Emma isn’t hers. 

She fucked that up. 

Still, some of the hollowness subsides each time she clicks _replay._ Still, part of her feels the dam around her own unruly heart beginning to crack. 

Alyssa wants to find her voice. 

She had it, once. She had it in the band room, had it in the passenger seat of Emma’s pickup, had it in her grasp like a hammer, and she was just learning how to swing it when it got ripped away faster than she could figure out how to attach it to her toolbelt. 

“I think it’s brave,” she manages to tell her mother. She looks back down at her screen. Emma has her voice. She wants to find hers. She takes a step. And another. “You know kids are saying there will be another prom? Someone’s offered to pay for it.” 

_Let me go, Mom,_ she wants to say. 

Instead-- 

“Can we talk?” Alyssa knows she has to start the conversation. Her voice may be small, but it’s returning. 

As always, she gets brushed off. She knows her mother is aware of something. If she can just convince her to sit down and _listen--_

“Things are getting really crazy!” She shifts from foot to foot. She grabs her voice by the handle. She readies it to swing. “Mom, we have to talk about what’s really going on here.” She searches for more words, ones that seem like they’re finally coming unstuck from the inside of her throat for the very first time. “We can’t just keep avoiding this because it’s uncomfortable. I love you! And the thing is--”

Her mother grabs her before she can finish. She screams in her face. 

It hurts to know her mother still has her voice, even as she tries to silence her daughter. 

Alyssa’s eyes widen. She feels herself quivering, feels her voice trying to leave her. She holds it tighter. 

“This is not who you really are.” 

_How are you sure?_ Alyssa wants to ask. _How do you know this isn’t me? What do you even really know about me--_

Her mother places blame, never owns up to it. 

Alyssa thinks of her father. She thinks of the PTA. She thinks of Emma. 

Good girls take the blame. 

Maybe her mother isn’t good. 

Maybe Alyssa doesn’t need her. 

Maybe-- 

“Come on.” Her mother reaches for her. “We are going to end this now.” 

Alyssa pulls back, feels her chest hollow, feels the silence start to envelop her, but she doesn’t care. 

She needs to do this for her. 

“No!” her voice rings through the hall. She trembles under the weight of finally stepping into the light, under the insistent gaze of the woman she’s so long fought to please. “I’m not going with you.” She takes a step back. And then another. “I don’t want to be part of your shit anymore.” 

Her heart pumps fast, unruly and so, so free. 

This is it. There’s no going back. 

She rushes away before she can hear any reply, and something akin to hope sparks in her chest once more. It’s silent in the halls, but Alyssa doesn’t mind. Wind whips through her curls as she makes her way towards the gym; she spoke; she _screamed._

She found her voice. Now, it’s time to _really_ use it. 

***

“Mom. Just _listen,”_ Alyssa pleads. She can feel everyone staring. It’s silent. But her voice is keeping her company. “People don’t turn gay.” She knows this for sure. She knows how to craft a thesis. She knows how to speak like this. She can do this. “They are who they are.” 

“You don’t know what you are saying.” 

Alyssa squeezes her eyes shut. 

_Don’t cave._

“I do.” This is it. _Don’t cave._ “I know how you were raised, but the world is a different place now.” 

Her mother’s eyes are difficult to look into. She searches for something comforting. Her gaze meets Emma’s. 

“It’s not great, but it’s better because of people who have the courage to be themselves.” She tries to smile. “People like her.” Any other time, Alyssa would wish somebody would step in. But not now. Not now that she’s able to really speak, really say it all. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She’s suddenly breathless. Not speechless. Just breathless. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” It’s honest. Her mother raised her to be honest. “I just want to be me.” 

_Don’t cave._

_Be brave._

“So, here it goes.” Her heart sings at the sight of Emma. She rounds her mother, doesn’t allow the woman to stop her just this once. “I love you, Emma Nolan!” 

She screams the words. She’s found her voice. It’s time to really use it. 

She reaches out her hand. 

There’s deafening silence for just one second. People gasp. Everybody’s staring. 

Alyssa doesn’t care. 

Because this is Emma, and Emma is her everything-- 

_“Holy shit!”_

Alyssa tries not to grin too wide. 

She found her voice. She _really_ used it. 

Emma takes her hand. The world goes silent. It’s perfect. 

And _God,_ those eyes. They say everything. 

“Alyssa.” Her mother is crying. “You are confused.”

Any other day, she would believe her. She would listen. She would go along with what she said. 

Not today. 

Emma grips her hand tighter. 

“You are young, and you don’t know--” 

“If you don’t let her be who she is, you’re going to lose her.” Barry’s voice rings out. Alyssa’s admiration for him grows. “You’re going to lose your daughter. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” 

He has his voice. 

Maybe Alyssa can ask him for help in holding onto hers. 

“I just don’t want you to have a hard life.” 

The admittance makes her heart cry out. Her mother is just like any mother, but-- 

“It’s already hard.” Alyssa feels tears clogging her throat. More truths have spilled from her today than she’s ever allowed before. 

_It’s okay to cry,_ she thinks. It’s not a bad thing. _It’s okay--_

 _“Mom,”_ she begs. 

“We will talk tonight, okay?” 

It’s a start. Maybe her mom will listen, will want to know what she has to say for the first time. 

“Okay.” 

Alyssa watches her go. For a moment, part of her longs to chase after her. Emma holds her hand. 

She just came out. 

She just grabbed her hammer of a voice and swung it through glass. 

She screamed. 

She’s free. 

“You didn’t cave," Emma whispers, voice filled with awe. 

The blonde presses their foreheads together, and, faintly, Alyssa realizes that it feels like coming home.

_She didn’t cave._

***

It’s a night of dancing, of celebration, though she only has eyes for her date. 

Every second Emma’s hand in hers feels like a cry of defiance, feels like she’s being truly freed for the first time. 

Her voice rattles around in her chest, insists on telling Emma she loves her a thousand times over that night. 

And then Emma kisses her, and Alyssa feels more herself than she ever has. 

Her world goes quiet, and now, she loves it. 

Screaming can take a lot out of her, it turns out. But this… this silence with Emma’s lips on hers, with her tongue pressing against the seam of her lips until she reciprocates and her stomach turns and flips while a little voice in her head cheers, feels like everything. 

She kisses back, smiles into it. 

The music fades out. 

_Tonight belongs to them._

***

Alyssa never loses her voice after that day. 

She keeps it close, learns how to ask for what she wants, what she needs. 

Love crosses over the threshold of each dawn, finds its way into early mornings where Emma’s arms are wrapped around hers and the world hasn’t woken up yet. 

Some days, the cold still tries to pull her back, but Emma is always there with a kiss, with a touch, that tells her to speak, to scream, to tell her everything about her day from the beginning if she needs to in order to banish any fear she has of the dark. 

Emma kisses her, and she feels more herself every day. 

Emma kisses her, and nothing else matters. 

Alyssa shifts in bed. It’s quiet. So, so quiet. 

She checks to see that her voice is still firmly in her chest. 

It is. 

Everything is perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> so... what did you think? if you liked it, consider dropping me a comment/kudo below. it would make me smile! happy (almost) christmas to those who celebrate, and happy holidays in general. i hope everybody's doing okay. 
> 
> as always, i'm @ifthebookdoesntsell on tumblr. my askbox is always open for whatever is on your mind :)
> 
> be safe x


End file.
